


A Falling Fortress

by LelianasSong



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LelianasSong/pseuds/LelianasSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The news of Josephine’s betrothal affects Elena in ways greater than she would have expected. When her fortress and armour come crashing down, there is one small hope, a flicker of an idea that could make things right again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Falling Fortress

**Author's Note:**

> I realised that I hadn't addressed how Josephine's betrothal affects Elena. I mean, I internally addressed it, but I wanted to write a one-shot for it as well. I guess you could say it's a further insight into the working of Elena Trevelyan's mind and how she works.

Nothing. That is what the Inquisitor was forcing herself to feel. It had always been a speciality of hers, to push down the anger and sadness until it was little more than a secret, meant for her knowledge only.

Oh yes, Elena Trevelyan knew how to do this well. To force her face into a stoic mask, to straighten her spine until it looked to all the world as if she were indestructible, intimidating and infallible. The statue of ice that had inspired so many names, so many rumours, the one she had worn throughout her Circle life as she wore her carefully crafted armour now. It hid, it concealed and to the rest of the world, Elena would appear as immovable as stone.

Yet now, as she watched Josephine from across the room, she could feel that armour cracking and splintering. A twitch of her lips, unbidden tears that swelled into her eyes and her hands trembling as she attempted to speak with visiting dignitaries as per her lover's request. But no, they could not be lovers. Not anymore. Not when some Antivan Lord had been promised Josephine's hand and Elena was left with a bitter taste in her mouth.

She could see how it weighed on Josephine, her hands always reaching to caress and stopping just short of Elena's skin. It was easy to forget themselves, until the truth reared its ugly head and the Ambassador would recoil as if bitten by a snake. It's venom, seeping beneath their skin, burning and scorching and searing.

Of course it would happen like this. Of course Josephine would be betrothed just after Elena had finally accepted what she had tried to deny for so long. Love. That emotion she had sworn away from, had never particularly felt besides one incident that had ended in far too much pain and guilt. It had ruined her life, it had ruined Gwen's life and yet no amount of sense could destroy this feeling now. She looked upon Josephine, so completely in her element and with the weight of the world upon her shoulders. Across the room, her eyes flickered, meeting Elena's briefly in a saddened and wanting exchange. There was a longing in that gaze, one that set that secret aflame.

It burned within her chest, forcing air out of her lungs as she felt the impact of their weight. Maker, if only she had learnt to erase and not to mask. It only she could scoop Josephine up into her arms and lay siege to her lips and neck in an onslaught of kisses and touches that would transport them to a world where the rest of the world did not exist. Where Elena could finally open her chest and allow these emotions to burst forth, her secrets revealed, her soul laid bare for the women with whom she was certain now that she wished to give her heart too.

It was all too much and she knew her trembling hands said far more than she would have liked to give away. Her mind screamed, begging her to leave before trembling hands became trembling lips and tear stained cheeks. Before the sadness and anger took over, as want as it was to do so in her private moments of solitude, but which could not be allowed in so public a forum. No. She could not appear weak. So easily moved by emotion that not a single person in the room would not see it as a crack to scrape and assault, to exploit it until she could barely maintain the image that she had spent so long cultivating.

So she excused herself when the moon was high enough in the sky, announcing her departure and allowing Josephine and many of her staff to handle the remaining guests.

The moment she disappeared behind the door and up the stairs, she felt a relief ease her very soul as she allowed those tears to fall free. Maker, how had she allowed this to happen? When the inability to touch and whisper sweet compliments into Josephine's ear had uprooted her and twisted her so completely.

She hungered and yearned to have that woman again. There was nothing within her power and beyond that she would not try. Josephine was hers, she would not simply allow her heart to love only to lose the one person she truly thought could ever be given it. A simple kiss, a cherished embrace, that was all she needed to stop this ache, this pain that made her want to scream.

Her feet hurried as she ascended those final steps, bringing her swiftly to the cache of wine that she had hidden from all prying eyes. A simple matter of opening it and soon the bottle was pressed to her lips. There was no time to be dignified, to pour the wine into measured glasses. No, the sweetness of the liquid was all that she needed and she needed it now, guzzling it as though it could provide her with all the answers she needed.

But it wouldn't would it? It could not replace Josephine in her arms and it was unlikely to quieten the clamour in her mind or the tightness in her chest. Still, it was all she had. All she could do, as she angrily rubbed her cheek, smearing her dark makeup across her pale skin as she continued to drown her sorrows.

It was wrong. It was unhealthy and Maker's balls would Josephine be angry at her if she knew. Her fist clenched, angered at how hopeless she felt. A burning rage that flared from nowhere and surged through her arm to the tips of her fingers until she felt her muscles throw the bottle away from her lips.

There was an almighty crash, a distinct shatter as wine and glass collided with wall in the small room behind her bed, hidden in a darkened corner where the liquid would ooze and seep, out of sight and out of mind.

It had not been much, Elena realised with disdain. A mere trickle compared to the waved that flowed within her, the world dizzying with the speed of which she had taken her vice. Squeezing her eyes shut, the Inquisitor could not help the sob that erupted from her, wracking her body as she finally gave in. The walls crumbled, the armour put aside as she found herself alone atop her new ivory tower. Such freedom beneath her fingertips and yet she was denied the one thing she had yearned for the most. The thing that had always escaped her grasp with each passing year until it threatened to crush her.

Happiness. True happiness.

She had felt it with Josephine, as fleeting as that time had been. For once, she had allowed that light to fill her within, the one after which she had been named, the one that lightened her chest and sent the whole world soaring. And now it was gone, once again and Elena was sick of it. She wanted it to stop, she wanted all of this to stop and yet she knew that it would not and knew that she would loathe to be beaten so easily.

Feebly, she climbed into her bed, forgetting to change out of her clothes as she curled up. She clung to one of her pillows, the one that still smelled of _her_ , as masochistic as such an action was. Elena closed her eyes, willing the trembling and the sobbing to stop, to regain herself and all that she had worked so hard to construct.

Maker knows when it finally stopped. Whether it had been minutes or even hours, Elena could not even tell. All she knew was that now the hollowness was back. Encasing her in the abyss until she could not hope to keep her body awake much longer. She felt herself drifting, her body finally easing at the lingering scent of Josephine upon her pillow and the weariness of her bones.

As her eyes closed, there was but one person within her mind. One person whom Elena would give anything to be in her arms once more. No, this could not continue. She would do what needed to be done, consequences be damned. Just as she was about to finally succumb to sleep, the thought flittered into her mind, words spoken in a familiar and lilted Antivan tongue: a duel.

Yes, that her only option now. Josephine was likely to kill her if she found out, but it was worth the risk. A duel for Josephine’s hand… yes, that did sound rather perfect.

 


End file.
